


The Gift of a Moment

by furiouslygone



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Crying, F/M, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stress Relief, Therapy, therapist!Satine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furiouslygone/pseuds/furiouslygone
Summary: There was only one person who could soothe his pain.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	The Gift of a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> A short one-shot. I may lengthen it later, but I wanted to get this idea out of my head.

It was, again, a notably stressful day for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Another day with lives lost - _so many lives lost._ Not just numbers, or a clone, but human, individual humans with distinct personalities but brave souls - lost. It weighed heavily on Obi-Wan's heart. They were so close - _so close -_ to victory, but at what cost? The cost of so many distinct men...dead. They served such a great purpose, but Obi-Wan knew that they didn't deserve such gruesome deaths - they all meant so much to him. His heart ached for them, mourned each of their deaths.

And there was only one person who could soothe that pain.

He paused before knocking on her door slightly, afraid he would be overstepping his boundaries if he told her his troubles.

"Obi?" Satine answered as she opened the door.

He did a double-take. She was in her bathrobe, hair up in a tight bun, eyes tired.

"Oh, Satine, I'm sorry. Did I bother you at the wrong time?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.

She shook her head. "Not at all. Is there anything I could help you with?" she asked sweetly.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, looking at her with sad and tired eyes, letting his straight façade fade. "Satine-" the words could barely make it out of his mouth before he was pulled into her Coruscant apartment. She held his hand tightly and continued to guide him over to the living space and sat him down. She didn't say a word as she walked over to the kitchen and poured hot tea from a kettle that was already brewing into two porcelain cups.

She walked over to him, cups in hand, and handed one to him. From the smell of it, he could already feel himself relaxing - it was stress-relieving. _Probably something she drinks all the time, poor thing._

Satine sat close to him, placing a hand on his cheek and softly rubbing his beard. "I know that look in your eyes, Obi. Please talk to me."

He sighed, "I don't... I don't want to pressure you, or let you bear my burden, dear."

"You came to me for a reason, didn't you? Tell me what's going on, please. I'm here."

Obi-Wan looked at her, uncertain if he should continue. He thanked the stars she wasn't Force-sensitive - he wouldn't dare let her feel what he felt at that moment. "This- this war...mentally, it's too much for one person to handle. The death, the fear, anger, and pain I sense from...all of the men I've lost... It's..." His voice shook with grief, and Satine's eyes softened, hand caressing his cheek as she listened to him.

"I know, Obi, I know," she whispered, daring to give him a small kiss on his cheek. _He needs it._

He couldn't help but lean into her hand, somehow, later leaning on her shoulder after minutes of silence, her arm around him, letting him enjoy the present with her, the moment that she let him have silence, letting him talk when he was ready.

"I know how you feel, Obi," she whispered against his hair. _The Mandalorian civil wars,_ he thought. He remembered them, how losing her people to those wars caused her to further her mind towards pacifism. He wondered if he'd follow the same path - despising violence and war.

He snuggled further into the crook of her neck, a comfort to his anguish. He let himself feel the moment - he let himself be, for once in his life. He shivered at the feeling of her hand, pushed to the verge of tears through the comfort she gave him, allowing him to release whatever stress she had.

"I don't want to fight this war anymore, Satine," he sobbed. "I'm so tired. I can't bear the death around me every day."

She frowned and brows furred at the sound of his sobs, and positioned herself at the corner of the couch, letting him have a more comfortable position against her. She could feel his arms tight around her waist, clenching at her bathrobe, needing stability. "Oh, Obi, I understand. I understand how you feel, sweetheart. I'm not judging you at all. Please feel free to cry, my love."

And he did, he cried. For the first time, he cried in front of her, tears and all, and she bore witness to his emotions - something he was taught to not show or act on.

"I've got you, Obi," she whispered, "You're safe here."


End file.
